


lovely, dark, and deep

by havisham



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Flash Fic, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-31
Updated: 2012-03-31
Packaged: 2017-11-02 19:13:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/372382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havisham/pseuds/havisham
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Do you know, the rumor is that I am Arthur’s bastard?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	lovely, dark, and deep

_Follow me._

He had grown up sharp, with narrowed blue eyes and ragged black hair and a curling, cruel mouth. Merlin has a sudden vision of himself, an age ago, when he first came to Camelot. Had he looked like Mordred? He must have, a little. Why else would this jolt of recognition run through him now, deeper, surer than magic? 

Recognition or no, it didn’t excuse leaving the camp -- and the puzzled knights, all new fellows, no one he knew well -- and following the boy into the woods. This was how, Merlin thought, as he stepped into puddle that went up to the buckle of his boots, this was how wizards were killed. Or trapped. 

He went anyway, deeper and deeper into woods. Grass, birch, oak, and willow, he went past them all. He followed the occasional flash of white and blue, visible in the sparseness of early spring.

Mordred came to him all at once, using hands instead of magic. He pushed Merlin against a tree, its curved trunk almost bent to accommodate them. There they were, eye to eye, and Mordred did not seem so small, now. Indeed, they were almost the same height.

“Are you always this unwary, Emrys?” 

Merlin pushed the younger man off him with a weary sigh. His heart pounded heavily, painfully in his chest. Court life had made him soft, he decided. And he was not... He was not as young as he used to be. Well, he was not like Arthur, who took all evidence of aging to be a personal insult against himself and his kingly dignity. 

(Arthur had inherited Uther’s hairline.)

But this did sting a little, to be so easily bested by this-- 

“Brat.” 

Mordred’s smile was wild, spiteful. “Do you know, the rumor is that I am Arthur’s bastard?” 

“Indeed?” 

“By his sister, no less.” 

“A nasty rumor,” said Merlin, tracing his thumb along the shape of Mordred’s jaw. The boy trembled, his pulse quickened. 

“I don’t know why they don’t think I’m your son,” said Mordred, whose mouth could, Merlin found, sometimes be sweet. 

Merlin laughed, and Mordred winced. 

“Oh, everyone knows that I am celibate.” 

Mordred didn’t allow him to touch or linger, afterwards. His voice followed Merlin as he made his laborious way back to the road. _I will best you. I will be a better wizard, a better man. I won’t let you get in the way._

Merlin placed a hand on old stone post, and sighed. A knight shouted, “There he is!” 

He lifted an arm in greeting. 

“Poor boy,” said Merlin, to no one in particular.


End file.
